


Sick Day

by hypnoshatesme



Series: A Distorted (Work)Life [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Other, not a sick fic because i can't do those they gross me out, rly this is just meant to be cozy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: Jon hears Gerry isn't doing well, but is still surprised with what he finds.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Series: A Distorted (Work)Life [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944406
Comments: 8
Kudos: 82





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> @korrolrezni had such a comfy, cozy idea and then I saw the prompt 'sick day' on the list and i was like "The stars have aligned!!"

“Gerry?” Jon didn’t get a response, though that wasn’t necessarily news. Gerry often only heard him the second or third time, if he was lucky. He sighed and walked through the office door, repeating himself. 

Gerry wasn’t who was sitting behind the desk. It was Michael and Jon’s vision swam for a moment, mind trying to catch up with the unexpected view. It was grinning as usual, dressed in more colours and patterns than Jon could comprehend at first glance. It looked like the ugliest blanket had been wrapped around it and Jon took a moment to understand why he was so hung up on it. He had seen Michael in a variety of strange outfits, but never in something that looked this warm. Or maybe it was just that he had never seen a poncho so garish, Jon couldn’t tell. But _ something  _ about it confused him for a moment and he forgot what he had come in for. 

“Where...where’s Gerry?” he finally managed after collecting his thoughts again, eyes trying to ignore Michael itself and instead focus on the desk where a neat pile of paper lay next to a mug.

Michael’s grin curled further upwards and it lifted its poncho a little on one side. Jon was too distracted by its hand suddenly coming into view to register the grumbled complaint coming from underneath the fabric. It took another moment for Jon to make sense of it when he did hear it. The gap made by Michael’s hand revealed a glimpse of Gerry’s curled up form, a bit of his arm, the back of his shirt. It had been the  _ shape _ of the garment that had put Jon of, he realised now.

Jon took a moment to collect himself, trying to focus on what he meant to say. “I heard you weren’t feeling well? I thought you might be gone already.”

Gerry shifted a little, but his voice was still muffled when he spoke. “I finished my work. Am taking a break.” He curled up tighter, pressing himself into Michael. “It’s freezing down here today.”

Even his muffled voice didn’t sound quite right, a lot more nasally than usual and also tired. His words seemed a bit off, too. Jon had never heard or seen Gerry complain about the cold. He generally seemed fond of it, as far as Jon could tell, making it through winter in the same coat he wore in summer. He was definitely not okay if he was feeling cold in early October inside of the archives. Usually, he always complained it got too stuffy down here, if anything. Michael seemed just as concerned with what it was hearing, the crease between its eyebrows making for a strange contrast to its unchanging grin.

“I think it’s too early for the heating to turn on, but, uhm” Jon considered for a moment, unsure what to say. He wasn’t sure if it was Michael’s ever-confusing presence or just the fact that this was a bit out of his comfort zone. “You don’t...sound very good. I wanted to tell you you can go home. You could have just called in sick in the first place.”

“I’m not sick.” He sounded like he was pouting, maybe, which was a strange image to Jon. “Martin brough me tea earlier and I’m fine now.” Gerry vaguely gestured to the mug, only upsetting the fabric of the poncho and drawing in a sharp breath as more cool air made its way underneath. 

Michael’s arm tightened around him and it mumbled, “Sasha said you should go home.”

“I agree,” Jon added.

“I’m fine here.” Now he just sounded stubborn.

Jon sighed. “Well, consider your work day over, then.” He walked to the desk to pick up the files, wondering about what he could expect if Gerry had worked through them in this state. He glanced up and where he assumed Gerry’s head must be. “I guess you can stay here, too, if you want. But I’d encourage you to get to bed.”

“ _ You _ never miss work even when you’re feeling off,” he mumbled and his voice was starting to sound a little rough.

“You admit your feeling off,” Michael stated, one finger seemingly coming out of nowhere to caress Gerry’s arm.

“Shut up.” His voice sounded more muffled as he pressed his face back into Michael’s chest. “I’m fine.”

This was a pointless discussion and Jon decided to leave it at that. He sighed, resigned. “I won’t expect you to show up tomorrow.” 

And if Gerry still did in this state, he would send him home. The last thing Jon needed was for everybody else to fall ill, too. Or for Gerry to get worse. He looked up at Michael’s face with some difficulty in not forgetting why he was doing so. “Do you...know what to do?”

Michael nodded. “Sasha and Martin made a list.”

“Good.” Jon gave it a nod - it was strange to be talking to Michael as the more reasonable of the two, but then again everything was strange since Jon had taken this job - and left the office again.

Gerry curled up tighter after he heard the door close again, voice close to a whine when he said, “Could you please let go of the poncho, it’s letting all the chill air inside.”

Michael dropped the fabric again and felt Gerry sigh in relief, cuddling closer with a sniff. 

“The archivist sent you home.”

“I’m very comfortable here,” Gerry mumbled, nuzzling Michael’s chest.

“You don’t have to move to go home.”

There was a short silence before Gerry whispered. “I guess that’s true…”

It was all the agreement Michael needed. It wrapped both its arms around him, cradling him close before getting up from behind the desk and walking them through the door that wasn’t there. The door led them into Gerry’s bedroom and since Gerry still did not seem fond of moving from his position, Michael simply laid down on the bed itself, letting Gerry rearrange himself as he pleased underneath the poncho.

“What were you saying about a list?” he mumbled after he settled into a comfortable position, cuddled up against Michael. It felt pleasantly warm and soft and Gerry felt like staying close calmed his pounding head a little.

“While you napped.” Michael pulled him closer. “Sasha asked if I knew how to help you get better. They made a list, so I know.”

Gerry didn’t remember napping, though he had spent most of his workday slipping in and out of consciousness, head light and heavy at the same time. So it didn’t sound unlikely that he might have passed out for a bit.

“What does it say?” he mumbled, burying his hands underneath Michael’s shirt, searching for extra warmth. His fingers felt so cold. Michael didn’t even flinch.

“Soup.”

It took a moment before Gerry’s hazy mind understood that as an answer to his question. “‘M not hungry,” he grumbled.

“It also says plenty of sleep.” Michael ran its hand over Gerry’s hair. “You can have that first. Are you comfortable?”

“Very.” He nodded, adding, “I don’t remember you being warm before...”

“I’m not.”

Gerry’s mind was not coherent enough to think too much about that. “Must be me, then…”

His voice was barely audible by that point, and it didn’t take long before his breathing calmed and he was drifting off to sleep. Michael continued stroking his hair, happy that Gerry was finally resting.


End file.
